Hornsund, Svalbard
Time may have been on the side of the Rolling Stones, but here in Svalbard, our journey is sadly coming to a close; though most of us would definitely prefer another day, week, or even more. Throughout our expedition we have been forced to adapt on the fly to the Arctic’s ever-changing conditions. We’ve planned to make full speed in one direction only to be thwarted by ice, fog, or the odd polar bear; or twenty as the case may be! We have traveled far enough to have circumnavigated the main island of Spitsbergen almost three times without ever seeing the whole coastline. And though many sites have been in our intentions, they have often eluded us as conditions are exceedingly variable, requiring a fair measure of patience, spontaneity, and more than a little good fortune.
As we made our way into Hornsund this morning, it seemed that our luck may have run its course. Large multi-year pack ice floes choked the fjord’s entrance, and heavy fog loomed on the horizon. Concerned, yet determined, we pushed onward though hampered considerably by the sea ice that at times reached 9/10’s density. Slowly, slowly we made our way further and further into the sound, unsure if our efforts would end in futility, but holding out hope that there might still be an opening up ahead, one that would allow us the opportunity make one final landing before heading back to Longyearben.
As the minutes passed, we realized the fog was retreating, not advancing, and the ice, though cumbersome, certainly lent true Arctic legitimacy to the stunning panoramas opening up before us. A short time later, one last polar bear made an appearance in the distance, also navigating amongst the large floes, and it appeared that our fortunes were turning for the better. And then finally, we broke through the pack ice to find ourselves beneath a towering cliff face bathed in sunlight. The shore was clear, and we were free to explore one last bit of Svalbard’s terra firma.
Late for lunch, and needing to be on our way, we scurried back to the ship with a myriad of images in our minds: from lonely winters spent in the old hunter’s hut to the bouncing gait of the arctic fox suddenly searching for a more private venue to finish its meal. Over lunch, and later cocktails, we spoke of tomorrow and our return to the routines of daily life, but somewhere, sometime soon we will all “come runnin’ back” to the memories of the Arctic wilderness we’ve fostered here in Svalbard.
Time may have been on the side of the Rolling Stones, but here in Svalbard, our journey is sadly coming to a close; though most of us would definitely prefer another day, week, or even more. Throughout our expedition we have been forced to adapt on the fly to the Arctic’s ever-changing conditions. We’ve planned to make full speed in one direction only to be thwarted by ice, fog, or the odd polar bear; or twenty as the case may be! We have traveled far enough to have circumnavigated the main island of Spitsbergen almost three times without ever seeing the whole coastline. And though many sites have been in our intentions, they have often eluded us as conditions are exceedingly variable, requiring a fair measure of patience, spontaneity, and more than a little good fortune.
As we made our way into Hornsund this morning, it seemed that our luck may have run its course. Large multi-year pack ice floes choked the fjord’s entrance, and heavy fog loomed on the horizon. Concerned, yet determined, we pushed onward though hampered considerably by the sea ice that at times reached 9/10’s density. Slowly, slowly we made our way further and further into the sound, unsure if our efforts would end in futility, but holding out hope that there might still be an opening up ahead, one that would allow us the opportunity make one final landing before heading back to Longyearben.
As the minutes passed, we realized the fog was retreating, not advancing, and the ice, though cumbersome, certainly lent true Arctic legitimacy to the stunning panoramas opening up before us. A short time later, one last polar bear made an appearance in the distance, also navigating amongst the large floes, and it appeared that our fortunes were turning for the better. And then finally, we broke through the pack ice to find ourselves beneath a towering cliff face bathed in sunlight. The shore was clear, and we were free to explore one last bit of Svalbard’s terra firma.
Late for lunch, and needing to be on our way, we scurried back to the ship with a myriad of images in our minds: from lonely winters spent in the old hunter’s hut to the bouncing gait of the arctic fox suddenly searching for a more private venue to finish its meal. Over lunch, and later cocktails, we spoke of tomorrow and our return to the routines of daily life, but somewhere, sometime soon we will all “come runnin’ back” to the memories of the Arctic wilderness we’ve fostered here in Svalbard.
